


Sunday Morning

by OTPTillTheEnd



Series: Stolen Moments [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Sam Wilson (mentioned) - Freeform, what is canon? I don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 02:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20520692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPTillTheEnd/pseuds/OTPTillTheEnd
Summary: Sometimes the picturesque sunrise by the Lincoln Memorial is not enough to get Maria Hill out for a morning run. On rare occasions Steve is the one that sleeps in. Today is one of those rare moments.





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Affectionate Moments Meme: 27. Accidentally Sleeping In + 28. Teaching the other something new + 29. Cooking Together requested by agent-sparkles on tumblr

Sunshine filtered in through the sheer curtains, warming tangled limbs that lay on the bed. A soft groan escaped the brunette, arm going to shield her eyes from the sun. _Five more minutes, _she thought, attempting and failing to stifle a yawn.

Shifting, she attempted to blink the sleep from her eyes as she gazed at the man next to her. Lips tugged into a slow smile at the realization that he had slept in. Fingers ghosted along the muscles of his back, taking in his sleeping form for a moment. It was not often that Steve slept in, as he always had an early morning run. There were times when she’d join him and Sam, wanting nothing more than to watch the sun rise from the Lincoln Memorial. Unfortunately, the picturesque sunrise was not enough to have her make it a _routine._

Pressing butterfly kisses to his shoulder and back, she shifted closer to him. Her actions eventually evoking a gruff _“mornin’” _from him.

“You slept in…” the words are breathed against his skin as he turns to lay on his back.

She vaguely hears him ask what time it is, but she is far too busy. Too busy rousing him from sleep with her mouth. _Too busy ghosting her lips along his chest and abs to reply_.

“Maria…” her name is a groan, but she can tell he is more awake now than he was moments ago. Nipping at a spot near his ribs, she moves up his body, a known grin already in place.

“I _clearly_ wore you out last night,” words drip with amusement, his hands going to rest on her hips. “What’s for breakfast?”

Steve was about to retort but her latter words cause him to arch a brow at her. Before she can react, he flips them over, pinning her under him. The laugh that escapes Hill soon turns into soft sighs as he navigates her form, lips and fingers pressing, touching, teasing all the right places.

“Steve…” fingers tug at his hair, attempting to get his attention when her stomach growls. “I’m _hungry” _

The breathy chuckle he emitted against her inner thighs would have made her rethink getting out of bed had she not been so famished. Maria’s hands roved about his bare back, blunt nails digging in as their lips melted together.

Tipping her head backward, lashes fluttered shut, a smile lazily tugging across her lips. “How does a French omelet sound?” his question was asked against the hallow of her throat, lips blazing their own obscure trailing along her neck.

“French? Been a while since I had one…” Blue eyes meeting, he kissed her cheek before getting off her. “French omelet it is. I’ll show you how to make ‘em.”

Watching him pull on a pair of track pants, it took Maria a moment longer to remove herself from the bed. Grabbing his t-shirt off the floor, she tugged it on, following him down the hall.

\----

“It’s supposed to be fluffy and a bit runny,” Rogers explained as she watched him shake the pan while whisking the raw egg mixture. “it also doesn’t get that golden color that American omelets get.”

Nodding along as she popped a couple blueberries into her mouth, Maria watched as he seamlessly sent about adding cheese (upon her request) and _rolling it_ rather than folding it in half.

“That whole rolling thing looks like a pain. I doubt I could do that,” she said, pouring coffee into her mug and taking tentative sip.

“It took me a _while_ to be able to get it right.”

Arching a brow at him, she leaned forward and took the offered bite, making a sound of approval and she chewed. “That’s actually really good.”

\----

They ate their breakfast and enjoyed their coffee, the TV volume low, more for background noise than anything else. Dirty plates forgotten on the table as they stumbled back into his bedroom, both content with spending the rest of the day in bed.


End file.
